


Unexpected

by slowroad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:36:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowroad/pseuds/slowroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is six weeks into the eighth year. Harry is depressed and Draco is quiet. Harry is a bit lost inside his own head and he doesn't know how to get out. Draco decides to help him. Warnings: Mentions of cutting, self harm and an unconscious attempt at suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Disclaimer:**  Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. 

...

Six weeks into the eighth year and it still felt strange that everything was so peaceful, that there was no madman out to kill me, no Horcruxes to find, no prophesies to fulfil, no need whatsoever to be a hero. It was nice to have merely teenage problems for once...like an ex-girlfriend who was still mad at having been rendered ex, best friends who were a bit nauseatingly in love with each other, lessons that were difficult and homework that was insanely taxing...

The past year had been horrid and we were all finally settling down, trying to move on and trying to be happy. Though that was easier said than done...at least for me. I still had nightmares every night. I saw Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Mad-eye...I saw them all dying. I saw Teddy, orphaned even before he'd had a chance to get to know his parents...It had been months since the final battle, but the memories continued to torment me. I refused to admit it, but I was depressed.

My friends tried to talk me out of it, but it didn't help. They had been through a lot with me, but they hadn't seen the horrors that I had and they simply could not understand why I was having such a hard time dealing with it all. Their intentions were good, but Hermione has a tendency to over-analyse everything and Ron would just slap me on the back and tell me that I needed to get over it.

"Maybe you should get back together with Ginny, mate," he would say hopefully.

Like that was going to solve anything. My feelings for Ginny had cooled a long time ago and while I had hoped that we might stay friends, that didn't look all that likely at the moment. Not that I cared…I had bigger things to worry about, liking getting from the beginning of each day to the end without losing my mind. I was seriously messed up and all I wanted was to be left alone. Just being around people would get on my nerves sometimes, particularly when the people in question insisted on fawning over me and treating me like a hero.

So I started going off by myself whenever I could. Once classes were done, I would seek out the quietest, most remote corners of the castle and spend my evenings there. I would take my books with me and try to do my homework. But I found it hard to focus and I usually ended up spending hours thinking…trying to make sense of my life and trying to figure out where I was going to go from here on.

I had assumed that I was going to die in the final battle, so there hadn't been much point in planning or thinking about my future. But here I was, alive and well...and now I didn't know what to do with myself. Everyone assumed that I would get back together with Ginny and marry her someday. Everyone was convinced that I would become an Auror and continue to fight the bad guys and be a hero. It was stifling. The prophesy was gone but I still had this awful weight of expectations on my shoulders.

A weight that I decided I did not want. I had done a lot of thinking about my life in the days and months following the final battle and while I still had no idea what I wanted, I did know what I did not want. I did not want a relationship with Ginny. I did not want become an Auror. I did not want a life of danger and excitement and I most certainly did not want to fight another Death-Eater ever again.

None of these decisions had gone down well with my friends. Ron was particularly disappointed. That hurt. But it didn't make me want to change my mind, not one bit. I was done being a hero. Now if could only I could dig my way out of my depression somehow…I was sick of being unhappy, but I honestly had no idea what to do. I needed help…and it came. It came when I least expected it.

It must have been a couple of months into that first term. I was up in the south tower, in a little room that had probably once been used for storage. There was nothing there now, except a couple of old benches. I had stumbled across it on my way to the owlery the previous day and I had been surprised to see that it had been cleaned recently.

It was a circular room with two huge windows, looking out on to the grounds. I was sitting on the ledge and looking out at the lake the when I heard the sound of footsteps. I wondered who it could be. I thought it might be Filch for a moment, but that wasn't Filch's shuffling gait. The steps were firm and steady. My curiosity was aroused...

It turned out to be the last person I would have expected. It was Malfoy. He had his book bag on his shoulder and he strode right in, like he was used to coming here. Maybe he was. I had only stumbled on this particular corner of the castle the previous day. He stopped short when he saw me. He didn't seem to know how to react. Neither did I, to be honest.

We'd ignored each other since the start of the term. In fact, the last time we'd spoken was at his trial when I had returned his wand and he'd thanked me for defending him and his mother. He'd been polite and gracious, a little stiff perhaps, but that was only to be expected. It must have been acutely uncomfortable to have to be nice to me.

We had stayed well out of each other's way after that. I had no desire to fight with anybody and neither did he, it seemed. Ever since he'd come back to Hogwarts, he had been quiet and subdued. He was nearly always alone and he always had his head buried in a book. He had apparently been studying very hard. He'd beaten Hermione in more than half of the tests we'd had so far.

We started at each other for a couple of minutes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude," he said finally and he turned to walk away.

I don't know what pushed me to call him back, but I did. "You can stay if you want," I said.

His eyebrows went up at that. "Really?"

"Yeah. I came up here for a bit of quiet and I'm pretty sure you have no desire to talk to me…so you might as well stay."

He continued to look surprised, but he came back in. He dumped his bag on the other side of the room, got his books out and got to work. I glanced at him a few times, but he never looked up, not once. It was almost as if he'd forgotten I was there. I felt a bit guilty watching him work. I had a ton of homework that I needed to get to, but I simply wasn't in the mood. So I continued to sit there and look out at the grounds and the lake and tried to find a bit of peace in the midst of all the painful memories and the confused jumble of thoughts in my head.

We sat in that strange and somewhat companionable silence for a couple of hours. Then Malfoy gathered his things and made to leave. He turned to look at me, a bit uncertainly, I thought.

"Are you going to miss dinner again?" he said tentatively.

He'd noticed that I'd been skipping dinner? I was surprised and oddly pleased.

"Probably," I said.

"Why?"

"I don't feel like it."

"You don't feel like eating, or are you just trying to avoid the great hall?"

"A bit of both…I'm surprised that you noticed," I said.

He coloured at that. "Everyone notices your absence, Potter."

"My friends don't even notice sometimes…"

He fidgeted with his bag and looked a bit uncertain. "I'll leave you to it then. Just...don't starve yourself, yeah," he said and then he turned and left, a slightly embarrassed expression on his face.

I stared after him for a long time. Had Draco Malfoy of all people, expressed a bit of concern for me? We were no longer rivals...all our animosity had died with the war, but this was unexpected.

…

I saw him at breakfast the next day. I stared at him so long that he was forced to look up. He raised his eyebrows. I pointed to the food on my plate and smiled. He rolled his eyes and went back to his book. It was surprising how much this little exchange cheered me up.

I went through my classes in a bit of a daze, as usual. I knew that I needed to get my act together and actually pay attention to my lessons and my homework if I wanted to get through the year with a few decent grades. But I simply couldn't bring myself to care.

I had never been particularly bothered about school work. What with Voldermort trying to kill me every year, lessons hadn't seemed all that important. So I'd got used to taking whatever help Hermione could give and scraping by as best I could. I didn't want to do that anymore, but try as I might, it was hard to focus on lessons and homework. I was just too lost in my own head.

I suppose the teachers saw this and made things as easy for me as they could, but even they would not be understanding forever. I needed to get myself together. When school ended that afternoon, I went up to the south tower and settled down to do a bit of work. A part of me wondered if Malfoy would show up again...he did. He looked a bit taken aback to see me studying.

"What?" I said, perhaps a bit defensively.

"Nothing. Just surprised to see you doing something as mundane as homework," he said mildly.

He went to his corner, got his books out and went to work. I watched him for a couple of minutes and then I went back to my Charms essay. I tried to focus, but I kept getting distracted. In the end, I put my books aside and went back to my usual pastime of staring out at the lake. Malfoy glanced at me a couple of times and he sighed, as if he couldn't believe how stupid I was being.

But he didn't say anything and for that, I was grateful. We stayed in that comfortable silence until it was time for dinner. Then Malfoy got up and stretched. He packed up his things, picked up his bag and put it on his shoulder, but he didn't leave. He just stood there and looked at me. I tried to ignore him but I couldn't.

"Oh! For Merlin's sake! Why do you care?" I said finally.

"Because I've been there, Potter. I was depressed too. I stopped eating, I used to spend long hours locked up in my room, sitting in the dark thinking about the war and every bloody stupid thing that I did...I even used to cut myself, if you must know."

He said it so calmly, like it was no big deal. It was all the more shocking for that, I suppose. And it killed whatever denial I had been trying to summon. I sighed and turned away, embarrassed by the sudden prickling of tears in my eyes. They came often these days, often and unbidden. But I didn't want to cry now. I didn't want to embarrass myself.

Malfoy watched me for a couple of minutes, but he didn't comment on my tears. Then he put his bag aside and came over. He sat next to me and put his hand around me and held me lightly. And suddenly, inexplicably, I felt as if he understood...as if he knew the chaos and confusion, the pain and the guilt that racked my mind and my heart. His silence was more helpful than all the words of comfort that my friends and classmates threw at me all the time.

We sat there for several minutes while I fought to regain control of myself. Malfoy kept his arm around me and his eyes on the floor, giving me the time and space to recover.

"Sorry," I said finally.

"Don't be. It helps to let it out sometimes."

"Yeah, but it's embarrassing."

"Not as embarrassing as being caught sobbing and whining to a ghost in the girl's bathroom."

"Oh God! Don't remind me of that," I said. "I feel horrible every time I think about that day. I almost killed you. What was I thinking?"

"You weren't thinking. But I don't blame you. You were just trying to defend yourself."

"By using a curse without knowing what it did? That has to be the most reckless, most stupid, most thoughtless thing I have ever done. And you were crying! What sort of a person goes around hexing someone who is so obviously miserable?"

"You seem to have forgotten that I was the one who tried to hex you first and I was going to use the cruciatus."

"Which I could have deflected easily...There was no need for me to use that awful curse. I am so sorry, Malfoy."

"Bygones, Potter. Let it go." Malfoy patted me on my shoulder and let go of me and I found that I missed the warmth of his arm around me. It was strange that Malfoy, who had always seemed so cold should choose to show his support in such an affectionate manner...it was even stranger that the affection and support were directed at me.

We sat in silence for a while. I kept thinking about what he'd said. Malfoy used to cut himself? I knew that he'd been depressed. He'd spent all of sixth year looking like a ghost and every time I'd seen him through Voldermort's eyes, he'd looked stricken and lost and overwhelmed by the kind of bone deep misery that I had felt, going to all the funerals right after the war, misery that I still felt sometimes.

"When did you start cutting yourself?" I asked.

"End of sixth year. After I'd let all those Death-Eaters into the school and watched Dumbledore die..." He said it calmly enough, but there was a slight tremor in his voice that showed how painful the memories were.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. It's my own damn fault. I was the one who let those Death-Eaters into the school. I even let in a monster like Grey-back...in a place full of children!" His voice shook a little. "Of all the horrible things I've done, this is the one thing I'll never forgive myself for..." he said.

"It was war, Malfoy. We all did things we're ashamed of..."

"Yeah. But I'm uniquely situated in that respect. I haven't done one damn thing to be proud of...It gets a little hard to live with myself sometimes." He spoke calmly, as if he'd accepted this as a fact of life, and that made it sadder somehow...

I didn't know what to say to that. So I decided to turn the conversation in a more positive direction...

"How did you…um, how did you stop and...you know, get over your depression?" I said.

"I'm not over it yet, not really. But I am dealing with it a lot better, I guess."

He was silent for several minutes. I figured he wasn't going to tell me anything else...

"I nearly killed myself three months ago," he said finally. "I cut my wrist a little too deep and I was bleeding profusely. I had almost passed out when mother found me. She healed the cut, but I'd lost a lot of blood and...She took me to St Mungo's but they refused to treat me."

I was too stunned to be able to say anything. So I reached for his hand and held it lightly. He sighed and closed his eyes for a minute.

"What happened then?" I said.

"Uh...Mother brought me here. She fire called Professor McGonagall. She said she was sure that McGonagall would turn us away as well, but she didn't. She told mum to bring me through immediately and she called Madam Pomphrey and then she sat with mum all night as they waited for me to regain consciousness...I felt so ashamed of myself when I woke up. Mum looked as if she'd been to hell and back. I hated myself for having put her through all that...That's when I resolved to stop the cutting..."

"But what helped me the most was a conversation I had with Professor McGonagall a few days later. She told me that I needed to make a decision. 'Either you kill yourself properly or you get over yourself and get on with life, young man,' she said. She made me see that the fact that I had messed up so thoroughly didn't mean that I couldn't change. 'There's a lot you can give this school, there's a lot you can give our world,' she said. I found it hard to believe her, but I promised her that I would try..."

"Once I recovered she asked me if I would stay and help sort out the library. It had been reduced to a shambles through all the fighting. The room itself had been restored, but the books had to be repaired, sorted and catalogued. Madam Pince needed all the help she could get. I agreed to help out, of course. So I stayed at the school and went to work. It was just what I needed...a purpose. I felt useful again, like I had something positive to contribute. It helped me immensely."

Another silence followed. We were still holding hands. I knew it was a bit strange but it had been an offer of comfort and I didn't feel awkward about it. And neither did Malfoy, it seemed. We had far more serious things on our minds just then...My head was reeling with everything that he'd just told me.

"Thank you for telling me," I said as I finally and somewhat reluctantly let go of his hand.

"It was a relief to talk about it, to be honest. And if it helps you..." he finished with a shrug.

I stared at him for a minute. "Dumbledore was right about you..."

He raised his eyebrows in question.

"You are definitely worth saving and I'm very glad I did."

He looked a bit taken aback by that statement. Then he nodded. "Thanks," he said.

He glanced at his watch and then he got up. "If we leave now, we'll be able to make it to dinner while there's still something left," he said.

I groaned. "You're not going to let that go are you?"

"No, so you might as well give in. I've been watching you ever since term started. You eat one meal a day, if that. You're losing weight and you seem to be determined to starve yourself and I'm not going to let you."

"I'm not..." I began and I stopped when I was treated to the full force of the Malfoy glare.

"Fine! I'll eat. But can we go to the kitchens please? I can't stand to be around people right now."

He smiled at the implication of those words and nodded. "Sure," he said. "And when we're done, we'll go to the library and you will finish that essay."

I started to protest but he paid no heed.

"That Charms essay is due tomorrow, Potter. It would be nice if you got it done on time, for once."

And I did too, with Malfoy sitting across the table from me, reading a book. He kept me there until I was done.

…

I woke up the next day feeling better than I had for a while. I saw Malfoy at breakfast. He was sitting alone as usual. I had noticed this before, but I hadn't thought much about it. He was the only eighth year student in Slytherin. None of his friends had come back. And he didn't seem to have any friends among the sixth and seventh years. In fact, the more I watched the Slytherin table, the more certain I was that the rest of the students were actively avoiding Malfoy and since none of the students outside Slytherin would talk to him, Malfoy was always alone. I decided on impulse that I was going to do something about that.

When I saw him in Charms that morning, I took the seat next to him. He was a bit taken aback by that and so was the rest of the class, to be honest. But I wasn't paying attention to them.

"What are you doing?" Malfoy said.

"Sitting…in class, where I'm supposed to be right now."

"You know what I mean!"

"What? I can't sit next to you?"

"You can. But this is rather a public declaration of truce, don't you think?"

"I want to make a public declaration of truce. Besides, I like you. You're quiet and you don't annoy me and force me to talk when I don't want to."

His lips quirked up in a smile. "Are you always this honest?" he said.

"Yes. I'm a horrible liar and I'm awful at subterfuge. I would've made a lousy Slytherin."

"Hmmm…I'm not so sure about that. I think you can be cunning when you want to be."

My eyebrows went up at that, but before I could say anything, Professor Flitwick walked into the classroom and put an end to the conversation.

The class began. I tried to pay attention, but my mind would keep wandering. Every time it did, Malfoy would tap me with his quill and bring me back. No matter how many times my mind wandered, he managed to pull me out of my black thoughts and make me focus on the class. I don't know why he bothered. Maybe he really did want to help me, like he'd said. That thought made me feel lighter, like I finally had someone in my corner.

...

We fell into a bit of a pattern after that. We sat together in all our classes, we spent our evenings in that alcove up on the south tower, studying and doing homework and we nearly always ended up in the library after dinner. We were both quite determined to avoid the eighth-year common room if we could. He, because he would just be ignored and I because I would get too much attention. There was never anybody in the library after dinner. So we would be left to ourselves and free to be as quiet or as talkative as we wanted.

Malfoy had apparently made his mission to make sure that I did my homework on time and studied every day. I still had trouble concentrating, but he wouldn't let me give up. He didn't lecture me or harangue me the way Hermione did. He was gentle but he was persistent.

"Just get it done, Potter," he would say. "Trust me, the discipline is good for you."

Trust me? Strange words coming from a Malfoy to a Potter, but somehow, I did trust him. I glanced at him every now and then as he sat with his head bent over his book, a few strands of his blond hair falling across his forehead and I felt a rush of affection for him.

I found it hard to believe that this was the Malfoy that I had known for the last seven years. He seemed so different now, softer, nicer...he seemed like a genuinely good person and I found myself wanting to spend time with him and to really get to know him. I found myself wanting to be his friend, though I guess we were that already. We had fallen into a friendship almost without noticing it.

That thought had barely crossed my mind when I saw him looking at me curiously.

"Are you done?" he said.

"No. I got a bit stuck on the reactions that dragon blood produces when mixed with rose petals..."

"That is a bit of a complicated reaction. Here, let me explain," he said and off he went, slowly and patiently explaining the process, backtracking several times to make sure I understood everything. He'd done this for me every day for the past month, ever since we'd started hanging out together, making me focus on my lessons, helping with my homework, making me talk, taking me out of myself and generally making me feel happier.

"Thanks Draco," I said, when he was done.

His eyes widened at my easy use of his name.

"I think it's about time, don't you?" I said. "I mean...we're friends now, aren't we?"

His eyes widened at that. Then he nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"What for?"

"For forgiving me for all the awful things I've done to you…for giving me a chance, for saving my life. I could go on…"

"Okay stop. You've done plenty for me this past month. So let's call it even, yeah?"

"We're not even, Harry. We'll never be. But I will stop talking about it, if you want…"

…

Another month went by and Draco and I became closer than ever. It was the sort of friendship that I had never had with anyone. I felt comfortable with him. I felt safe and content. I felt as if I could tell him anything at all and I did. My heart grew lighter and life began to look more promising…

It was the last weekend before Christmas. After nearly four months of staying cooped up in school, I wanted to go out. So I asked Draco if he would go with me to Hogsmeade.

"Sure," he said. "But what about your friends?"

"They're going on yet another date to Madam Puddifoot's," I said with a grimace.

"I thought Granger was above that sort of thing," he said.

"Oh she is. But Ron isn't. He's the romantic in that combination. All girls want to go to Pinky Puddifoot's, so he's going to take Hermione there as well."

"Pinky Puddifoot's!" Draco chuckled. "Who gave it that name?"

"I did. What do you expect? Everything is so nauseatingly pink and girly in there…"

"Ah! So you've been there. Who was responsible for that?"

"Cho. Back in fifth year. What about you?"

"Pansy. Fourth year. It put me off that girl forever, let me tell you."

I laughed and I couldn't help marvelling at that. It was easy to laugh when I was with Draco. It was easy to be happy. I wondered what that meant…

...

The next day was bright and clear. There was a bit of a nip in the air, but it was wonderful weather for walking. So that's what we did. We walked to Hogsmeade, we bought some stationary and some chocolate and then we walked around the village, mostly unmindful of where we were going, too absorbed in conversation, too absorbed in each other to care about anything else. It was brilliant. Draco was funny and warm, witty and clever and more cheerful than I had ever seen him.

We talked about so many things, but what struck me was how much and how often we laughed. I felt as if I could quite literally spend whole days just looking at him and talking to him and not feel the need to do anything else. It was the strangest feeling. I had never felt like that about anyone before…

It was late afternoon and neither of us felt up to facing the crowd in The Three Broomsticks, so I got Madam Rosemerta to pack us a few sandwiches and a couple of butterbeers. We carried the basket of food into the woods on the outskirts of the village and had ourselves a picnic. It was wonderful. The wood was full of oaks, pines and birches and it looked stunning in the late afternoon sun. I transfigured my handkerchief into a blanket and we settled down under a giant oak tree and had our lunch. It was so quiet and so astonishingly beautiful…

"I feel so free out here." I said.

"I know what you mean," Draco said. "It's as if all our cares have disappeared for a while."

"Magicked away…wouldn't it be great if we could always feel like this…serene and happy?"

"Yeah…but then we might never achieve anything. Serenity isn't particularly conducive to striving now is it?"

"Maybe. But I think I'm done striving to be honest. From here on, I just want a peaceful life."

"So no going into the Aurors then."

"No. I never want to fight another dark wizard as long as I live. I've had enough of violence and danger to last me a lifetime."

"Hmmm. What are you going to do then?"

"I have no idea at the moment. I am hoping I will know by the end of the end of the year, though. What about you?"

"I want to be a potions master. I'd love to be able to able to come back and teach at Hogwarts," he said.

I thought it was a brilliant idea and I said so. Draco smiled, a little shyly I thought and I found myself smiling in response. We sat there for what felt like a long time, neither of us saying anything…just smiling and enjoying the moment. It was a rare moment of peace and happiness and we'd been through a lot to get it.

We lay down on the blanket after a bit, staring up at the canopy of trees above us, the sun shining through here and there. In that moment I knew that I was about as happy as I was ever going to be. And it was all because of Draco. In the space of a couple of months, Draco had turned my life upside down and inside out.

I turned to look at him and I found myself smiling fondly. I could no longer deny my feelings. I'd kept calling it friendship, but somewhere in the past month, I had fallen for this man and I had fallen hard. He turned to me just then and my smile got wider. He stared, his gaze questioning, like he was trying to find the answer to a puzzle.

I reached out and caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed as if in relief. Then he put his arm around me and pulled me close. We looked at each other for a long minute and then we kissed. It was soft and tentative, just a brush of lips really. We pulled apart and he looked at me anxiously, as if to say, Are you sure about this?

I nodded. We kissed again and this time there was nothing tentative about it. We stayed in those woods a long time that day and by the time we got back to the school, I was sure of at least one thing in my life.

…

It's been two years since then. Our eighth year is long over. Draco has finished his Potions mastery and is due to join Hogwarts as a teacher. McGonagall has successfully persuaded me that teaching Defence against the Dark Arts is my life's work, so I'm back where it all started, except that now, I am not alone. I have a partner who loves me very much and makes every day of my life worth living.


End file.
